On stage at ImprovBoston

After re-starting improv training in Cambridge despite having already been through a fair chunk of training at Second City a few years ago, this second consideration of the “Rules of Improv” made me realize how said rules can be applied as a guide to life, especially in a new city (which is, ostensibly, what this blog is about). You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here. Below is the third and final installment.

Rule number 3: Make statements. At the end of our last class before Sad Hooker’s** March show, my cast-mate declared, “I’ve figured out THE SECRET! To life! No, I mean to improv!” (Pause for dramatic effect.) “If you go into a scene with a strong emotion about the other person, it’s all way easier!”

“YES! Exactly!” responded our teacher, with the tone of voice you would expect from someone who had been saying “figure out how you feel about this person” over and over for the past eight weeks and was pretty sure we were all catching on but was nonetheless thrilled that someone had finally acknowledged her teachings, even if in the most indirect way.

And they’re right. Deciding how you feel about the other people before you start a scene is “the secret of improv” because it allows you to easily adhere to the third rule: Don’t ask questions. Make statements.

This seems like it should be obvious, but when you’re on a stage with zero script and nary an audience suggestion, and you’re just staring at your scene partner, blinking under the unbelievably hot lights, it’s tempting (bordering on reflexive) to ask something like, “What are you doing?” Stop. Don’t. Asking a question is not contributing – not to the scene, not to your partner, not to the characters’ relationship. Making the decision about how you feel ahead of time AT LEAST allows you to blurt out something like, “I hate your toes, Jerry!” and get the scene moving. Asking questions gets your scene nowhere fast.

This is all applicable in the real world. When you live somewhere new and are meeting new people, it’s important to always decide how you feel about them before you’ve spoken to them. It’s also important to never ask questions about anything, because you already know everything about everything and I AM KIDDING. DON’T be prejudiced and DO be inquisitive, folks.

But while the theories and practices behind this rule of improv are pretty much only good for when you’re improvising scenes, the main idea behind “make statements” is to feel confident in whatever it is you’re doing, or at least feel confident enough to start. Often in life, if you start with a question, you’ll wind up with 1,000 more questions. You kind of dig yourself a hole. But if you start with a statement, you have something to build on.

Confidence is what’s behind all of these rules (yes, yes and, make statements). Whether you’re on a stage or living your life doesn’t matter. All the world’s a stage, anyway (thanks, Shakespeare), so applying the rules of improv to whatever you do – a new scene, new friendships, a new position or project at work, a new relationship (or an established relationship), a new hobby, a move to a new town – will infuse confidence and help you, hopefully, find success. And help you lose belly fat*!
*Once more for the cheap seats – Improv will not help you lose belly fat. Not directly, anyway.
**That’s our group’s name now. Keeps audience expectations at bay.

Fellow Boston-area improvisors playing a scene in my apartment, which we got together to (drink and) do one Friday night. Because we’re awesome. I wish I had better pictures for this series.

After re-starting improv training in Cambridge despite having already been through a fair chunk of training at Second City a few years ago, this second consideration of the “Rules of Improv” made me realize how said rules can be applied as a guide to life, especially in a new city (which is, ostensibly, what this blog is about). You can read Part 1 here. Below is Part 2.

Rule Number 2: “AND.” An audience member declares you, a very white and only mildly but aspiring to be quite funky white chick to be George Clinton, leader of the P-Funk All-Stars? Hell yes. AND, you add, you’re the owner/operator of a struggling dog grooming business, hampered by the fact that no one wants their dogs to be funkified in this economy. By not just going along with the original idea (the “yes”) but adding to it (the “and”), you’re giving your partner(s) something new to build on and you’re (hopefully) surprising and delighting the audience by taking the scene in an unexpected direction. Which scene would you rather watch, George Clinton wandering around aimlessly, or George Clinton complaining about the lack of funk in the dog grooming landscape? Or whatever. There are no wrong answers – this is make-believe, after all. Whatever random crap comes out of your mouth, add to the scene with confidence and your partner(s) and the audience will happily follow you down whatever rabbit hole.

Again, of course, in the “real world” there are sometimes wrong answers, but the idea is the same. Once you’ve gotten brave enough to say “yes” to whatever, “and” it. Come up with your own plans for weird blogger outings. Hang out with the people you meet (and like). Build on the relationships you started when you meet people. If you’re confident and affable (not an arrogant asshole), people will go with it – and some of those people will probably end up being your friend.

You can read part 3 here!

A girl can dream to join these ranks. (Photo via Access Hollywood)

When I lived in Chicago a few years ago, I started improv comedy training at Second City. My love for the stage and comedy and propensity for randomness meant that improv would probably be a good time. Also, I’ve had a long-standing dream of performing on SNL, and Second City is essentially the “Harvard” (sigh, I know) of training programs that feed into a possible SNL career (or season standing in the background, which still counts). When $300ish is all it takes to “get into Harvard” and start following your silly (but unwavering) dream of comedy semi-stardom, you should just go for it. So I did, and I made some great friends and had some incredible experiences.

Having to leave the program before finishing (to move to San Francisco) kind of put a damper on my comedy career development – too trained to justify starting over, too inexperienced to start auditioning. But after moving to Cambridge and going to see an improv show (and being the most vocal audience member when asked for suggestions, and also giggling uncontrollably when offering said suggestions, resulting in the nickname “Gigs”) I realized I needed this in my life, even if it meant starting (re)training from the beginning.

I already knew that the rules of improv were a good guide for life, but thinking about them again at this juncture made me realize how absolutely applicable they are to a life after moving somewhere completely new. So without further ado, I present to you all “The Rules of Improv As Applied to a Post-Move Life,” a piece in, I don’t know, maybe 3 parts. Maybe 4? Some parts. This is Part 1.

For a classic (and much funnier) explanation of these rules, please refer to Tina Fey’s “Bossypants,” wherein she outlines “The Rules of Improvisation That Will Change Your Life and Reduce Belly Fat*.” Tina Fey is my hero and unwitting mentor, but I promise to you that I am not plagiarizing her here. These are just the rules of improv. They will change your life if applied correctly. They will probably not reduce belly fat.

Rule Number 1: Say YES. In an improv scene, you’re trying to build a world out of next to nothing, so it’s up to you and your partner(s) to build that world as quickly as possible so you can get on with the scene and let the hijinks ensue. The fastest way to do that is to say yes to (the dress?) everything. Imagine standing up there shooting down idea after idea – you’d never get anywhere in the scene, and you’d bore the hell out of and lose your audience very quickly. (Audiences are usually drunk, but they’re never stupid.) Worse, if you say no all the time, no one in your improv group will ever want to play with you because you’re a total buzzkill.

So say yes. Your partner says you’re a squid? They’re goddamn right. Someone declares you allergic to clothing? Absolutely. When asked for an audience suggestion for a celebrity impression, an audience member declares you, a very white and only mildly funky chick to be George Clinton, leader of the P-Funk All-Stars? Hell yes.

When you’re living somewhere new, living by the “rule of yes” is the most important thing you can do. It forces you out of what you think is your comfort zone and throws you into a world of possibility. Of course, the “real world” has limitations – financial, social, physical (you’re not going to be able to transform into a squid, sorry) – but it’s important to push yourself to try new things and meet new people. Go to that weird blogger event, join that random volleyball team, take that improv class even if you’ve already done most of the training at Second City. Nothing bad will happen. Probably good things will occur. And, hey, it’ll keep you from moping around on the couch, so maybe it will even reduce belly fat.

You can read Part 2 here!

The bar at Church of Boston

Last Saturday I made another sojourn to Boston Proper, this time to join Blog & Tweet Boston for brunch at Church of Boston, a bar/restaurant/nightclub that must have a genius doing their SEO, because they are the first result when you Google “Church Boston,” which seems weird for a city that actually celebrates various Saints feasts.

After struggling to find parking (only to discover that Church has a free lot in back!) I was kind of annoyed. Luckily, Church has a short but strong list of bottled IPA’s and Bengali Tiger on tap, which I ordered. After an introduction from Chef John Rush, it was decided he would whip up a menu sampling and send the plates our way.

I’ll admit that I have a prejudice against “combination” places. For example, I’ll never order sushi from a Chinese/Sushi restaurant, and I had a severe  (and unfounded) distrust of the late Diva Lounge in Davis Square because it was an Indian Tapas Restaurant/Lounge. I remember being horrified by this place I once walked by in Brooklyn:

Chinese/Tex-Mex in Brooklyn

I just think that establishments should pick what they’re good at and focus on making it great rather than try to achieve mediocrity doing a whole bunch of stuff. So when I saw that Church bills itself as a bar/restaurant/nightclub, I got a little nervous that this was another place trying to be all things to all people. But I was ready to give the eclectic menu a try.

And with that, I should mention that the food was all complimentary.

First out of the kitchen was the shrimp vermicelli special, a take on a spicy Thai noodle salad I’d become quite familiar with in San Francisco. The shrimp were poached nicely and I enjoyed the “salad’s” spice, but I wish there had been more cucumbers, bean sprouts, or red peppers in the salad. It was also lacking the brightness that this dish traditionally gets from fresh herbs and a lime-based dressing, because as-served it kind of just tasted like leftover shrimp scampi with some jalapenos on top.

There were also a couple platters of “Huevos Rancheros Del Diablo.” I am not sure what’s supposed to be quite so devilish about these breakfast tacos, but they were one of the two dishes I liked. A flour tortilla filled with black beans, Mexican Chorizo, tomatoes, and poached eggs. Unfortunately, I had been so excited to cut into the eggs, and so disappointed when no yolk oozed out of either that I let out an audible “aw, sad.” But overdone eggs aside, this dish was the lightest and brightest bite of the meal.

A plate came out that had an absurdly large slice of brioche on it, the “Toad in the Hole.” The name of the dish confused the hell out of me because I grew up familiar with the British version (sausage baked into Yorkshire pudding). I did a little research and it seems that we Americans have indeed claimed the Toad in the Hole for ourselves and, in true patriotic fashion, completely changed it. The American version is just “eggs in a hole,” and the Church iteration pairs this concept with that of French toast, which begets a giant piece of syrup-soaked brioche topped with a poached egg and bacon. This egg was slightly runnier than the huevos rancheros eggs, and thank goodness because the bite would have been way, way, way too sweet without the savory yolk on there. (It was still too sweet – maybe if they had used sourdough or something instead of sweet syrup and sweet brioche?)

During the introduction to the meal, Church’s PR guru explained to us that Chef Rush had Eastern European roots that sometimes influenced his food. Sure enough, we were delivered two platters of pan-fried cheddar and chive pierogi. This was my other favorite bite. I’m not Polish myself, but growing up in Michigan meant having lots of Polish friends, and the filling mixed with the caramelized sweet onion relish was a perfect bite of Detroit (and I mean that in highly complimentary fashion). If this is Chef’s inspiration, he would do very well to follow the Polish path a little further. These were delicious. I would happily eat an entire meal of updated Polish food made by Chef Rush.

We were also brought a sizzling cast iron skillet of lamb moussaka, ground lamb and eggplant and spices topped with a béchamel sauce. This dish lacked focus  – the lamb on its own was fine and worked well with the cinnamon, but the béchamel on top was far too heavy and overpowered everything else. I noticed on the menu this was supposed to be served with mixed greens that never made it to our table. The greens would have done well to cut some of the richness and balance things out.

We were also given servings of the flapjacks and skillet cornbread. I had a small bite of the skillet cornbread but found it too sweet, and I abstained from the flapjacks all together since I had long since surpassed my tolerance for syrup-soaked carbs. They were described as tasting “like butter,” though, which, sure.

After our food had been cleared, we were brought a cocktail made from Spicebox Canadian Whisky, white chocolate liqueur, and a cinnamon liqueur. I know I’ve railed on the sweetness of everything in this meal and I don’t usually like sweet drinks, but this worked for me. The whisky kept it balanced and it was truly warming. It’s a drink I’d have after a day of snowboarding.

Tasted better than it looks.

This would have been a neat capper to the meal, but we were generously given a round of desserts that included a ginger toffee cake, a flowerless chocolate cake, an apple empanada, and a trio of sorbet. The cakes were INTENSE – I didn’t have even a full bite of either and was still overwhelmed. Two in the trio of sorbet, pear and apple cider, were also too sweet, but the concord grape flavor was tart and refreshing. The apple empanada was fine, but I would have rather had more pierogi.

While the food we sampled was just far too sweet for my taste – I had walked in trying to decide between a spicy caesar salad and an avocado BLT before it was decided we go smorgasbord style – the meal was made enjoyable by the staff’s generous hospitality and a couple culinary high points. I might go back to Church if someone asked me to (and likely order a salad and pierogi), although if I’m going to be in Fenway I would rather choose the nearby Citizen, where I’ve had many a savory meal and Green Flash from the tap.

Forget about the SEC or the ACC or the BCS. Forget about Ohio State v. Michigan or USC v. UCLA. The biggest college football game of the year is more than just a game. It’s a celebration of a service, school, and town that has largely influenced my life and the lives of so many people I know. And it’s a celebration of the American spirit.

But I’ll save all the sappy “they come onto the field as enemies and leave brothers in arms” stuff for after the game. To all my Navy friends deployed around the world: UnbeaTEN had a nice ring to it, but let’s make it Unbeat(ELEV)EN.

BEAT ARMY. 

…and they did.